


Desire

by Misha_Collins_Overlord



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Daddy Kink, Daddy!Sam, Dom Sam, Dom Sam Winchester, Dom/sub, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, M/M, Spanking, Sub Dean, Sub Dean Winchester, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:55:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8399014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misha_Collins_Overlord/pseuds/Misha_Collins_Overlord
Summary: Sometimes there just isn't enough to do in a motel room with your brother ...





	

 

Sam sighed and swallowed the hot coffee, crushing the cardboard cup in his grip and tossing it to the floor. He watched Dean slip off his pants. 

God, Dean truly was beautiful. He wouldn't tell Dean that, of course. Not yet. He'd just roll his eyes and tell Sam to fuck off. No, he would have to wait. 

Dean pulled off his shirt and flopped into the bed next to Sam. He practically devoured the last slice of pizza, threw the box onto the ratty motel carpet, while Sam just stared. 

He watched the way the flickering motel light danced over curves of Dean's face, transfixed by the freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, those green eyes staring confusedly at him--

“Dude, what?” Dean raised his eyebrows. 

Sam quickly averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was . . . Daydreaming.” 

Dean's piercing green eyes rolled and he snorted. 

Sam looked back and broke out into a grin. “What?”

“What were you daydreaming about, Sammy?” Dean smirked. 

Their eyes met. “Just you,” he licked his lips. “Specifically how perfect you look when you're on your hands and knees and begging me for more.”

Dean's breath hitched. “Sam.”

Sam pulled his shirt off over his head and felt Dean's hands on his abdomen. Those hands started undoing Sam's belt, an urgency and hunger lending speed to Dean's calloused fingers. 

Dean stood up to pull off his brother’s jeans and climbed onto Sam, kissing him roughly. 

“ _ Dean _ ,” Sam groaned, hips twitching upwards to rub his cock against the thigh Dean placed between Sam's legs. “The safe word is “poughkeepsie”,” Sam breathed.

Sam entwined his legs with Dean's, and flipped them over with a growl. He kissed Dean again, sliding his hand between their bodies to rub his brother through his underwear. 

He pushed Dean over onto his stomach, ignoring the  _ hey! _ of surprise, pulling down the underwear enough to spank Dean's ass once, relishing the sound and the sight of his hand on his brother's skin. 

“Oh god, Dean,” Sam whimpered, when Dean pushed his ass into Sam's crotch. “You're such a good boy, Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, grinding on his brother's dick. “Am I your little boy, Sammy?” 

Sam picked up the bottle of lube from the motel room floor and poured some onto his fingers. He tore the underwear from Dean's body. 

“Easy, Sammy, you owe me a new pair,” Dean panted, biting his bottom lip when Sam slipped his fingers in. 

He worked Dean's cock with one hand, stroking inside Dean with his other fingers until Dean was ready. 

“Cmon baby, cmon baby,” Sam kept whispering. “Cmon baby.”

“Sam, put it in,” Dean muttered, eyes closed. 

“Call me daddy,” Sam blurted. He could practically feel Dean's brow furrow. 

Then Dean's fist slammed onto the mattress and his hips twitched forward as his brother stilled his hand. “ _Yes daddy please put it in daddy fuck me,_ ” he spat. 

Sam poured the cold lube over his own dick, hissing at the temperature. He slowly eased himself into Dean. 

“Say it again, Dean. Say it again.”

Dean turned his head as he slowly pushed himself down onto Sam's cock. “Fuck me, daddy.”

Sam groaned and tilted his head back, bottomed out. He slapped Dean's ass, gripped his hips tightly, his thumbs resting in the dimples in his brother's back. 

He started fucking into Dean, while Dean gasped and whimpered and whispered, “yes, daddy, yes, fuck me.”

He leaned forward, pressing his thumbs down harder, and bit Dean's neck. He sucked on the bite mark, snaking a hand around Dean's throat. Sam paused his hand until Dean nodded. 

He tightened his grip on Dean's throat, choking him, speeding up the movement of his hips. 

He pulled out of Dean, flipping him over onto his back. Dean twisted his fingers into Sam's hair, roughly kissing him. “Cmon Sammy,” he growled. 

Once Sam pushed back in, Dean grabbed the hand that rested on his chest and guided it to his throat. 

“Oh god, Dean,” Sam whispered as he squeezed his fingers, “I’m not gonna last.”

Dean’s pupils flared as he looked into his brother’s eyes, obscured by his long hair. “Gotta take care of me before daddy can come,” he panted.

Sam stilled his movement. Completely.

Dean whimpered.

“I tell  _ you _ what to do here, little one,” Sam growled, softly stroking his brother’s throat. “Am I understood?”

Dean nodded, desperate for stimulation. 

“Out loud.” His tone made it clear that Sam was not asking.

“Yes, daddy.”

Sam sighed slowly as he pulled out, eliciting another whimper from Dean. “That was two transgressions and you need to learn. Are you willing to learn, Dean?”

Dean cleared his throat and nodded, “yes, daddy.”

“You have such a pretty mouth. And it was that pretty mouth of yours that got you in trouble here. I think it needs to be hurt. Just a little, baby boy,” Sam licked his lips.

“As you wish, daddy.”

Sam smacked Dean across the mouth, not hard, but enough to sting. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He smiled, slowly sliding his dick back into his brother’s ass.

He braced himself with a hand on either side of Dean’s head, and fucked him like it was the only thing keeping them both alive.

Dean’s hand started inching towards his painfully hard erection, and Sam stopped to pin both hands above Dean’s head. 

“You come on my cock, and only on my cock, baby boy. Do it, come for me, come for Sammy, c’mon Dean, that’s a good boy,” Sam muttered encouragements as he thrust into Dean, Dean always came first for Sam.

Dean cried out as he finally came, untouched, spilling onto his stomach, shooting onto his chest and his neck. Sam moaned, watching his brother’s eyelids flutter closed, his breath hitch, his hands clench at the empty air.

Sam came screaming Dean’s name.

 

They lay there together on the small bed for hours, Sam stroking Dean’s arm, telling him how much he loved him. Dean would blow air out of his nose, and roll his eyes, mutter “no chick flick moments,” but would lean up and kiss Sam all the same. He told him he loved him too, every time. Truly, they loved each other as much as the dark loved light, always needing each other to exist, always affecting each other, in a perfect balance.

That was the essence of Sam and Dean’s being. Balance. Each other.

  
  


The maid cleaning the room the next morning noticed only one of the beds had been slept in.


End file.
